A Thousand Words
by KodeV
Summary: A collection of one-shots that may or may not be related to each other, but will all be based on prompts from The Art Club, found in the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) forum. Any of the one-shots that relate to the "Lies" AU will be labeled.
1. Therapy

_**HP universe, own I do not. **_

**Pot Luck:** Your image prompt will be a traditional piece of artwork (don't worry, none will be abstract or expressionist). Your optional prompt will be the title of the piece and any more information given by the artist.

**Image**: 'Lunar Web' by Lyonel Feininger

**Optional**** - **shattered, angst, moonlight

**Therapy**

* * *

The nightmares were coming more frequently. Remus could not say which stressor triggered them - infiltrating Greyback's pack to attempt to lure as many members away from the feral beast or the series of articles written about werewolves. Maybe it was a combination of the two but whatever it was, it was ruining the nights he could enjoy. He was not registered, so going to a mind healer was out of the question. They would be duty bound to report him to the ministry, as being a 'dangerous dark creature' superseded any oath about healer/patient confidentiality. After all Albus (even though he was seven years out of Hogwarts, he still had trouble referring to the former Headmaster by his first name) had done for him, he could not be (although he was) identified as the 'unspecified rouge creature' that injured an under aged wizard while on Hogwarts grounds that was reported about in the Daily Prophet. How that Skeeter woman found out about that incident, Remus did not know. He just knew that without direct proof, he couldn't be directly named, although judging by the looks he was given by his former classmates, he suspected many (and accurately so) suspected him. Remus also knew that if he was turned in, it would mean Azkaban for Albus Dumbledore and for him, death. He cared little about dying, but with Voldemort out there building up his power base, the wizarding world needed Dumbledore, founder and leader of the Order of the Phoenix, out on the front lines if (when) a wizarding civil war broke out in Britain.

However, he could not continue not getting any sleep. Remus did not want to become dependent on the Dreamless Sleep potion and because of what he was, muggle medicines would be as effective as the lemon drops the Headmaster (Albus, he mentally corrected himself) offered everyone at the beginning of the Order's meetings. His last transformation had been especially horrible because of the lack of sleep and Prongs had almost become a midnight snack. Even between transformations it was hard for him to suppress certain tendencies and as a result, Remus had started to stay away from the only people left that he considered family – Lily, Harry, Prongs, Padfoot, and (whenever he showed up) Wormtail. Something had to give. His mind felt fractured, shattered in jagged little bits and he did not know how or if he could put the pieces back together. Then he felt foolish and blamed it on living as a wizard for too long. He was a half-blood wizard and unlike most half-bloods, he was born in a muggle hospital. His birth was registered with the Ministry of Magic three days later through the squib liaison at the hospital where he was born. Therefore, he had access to the muggle healthcare system, one he had not used since becoming of age in the wizarding world. Feeling hopeful for the first time since the nightmares started, he traveled by Floo to the Leaky so he could reach muggle London.

**Some Months Later**

"So Remus, have you taken my advice?"

"No, I haven't. Maggie, I keep telling you, with all of these responsibilities I have, I don't have time for trivial things."

"This 'trivial thing' you're so . . . so . . . ," Maggie Roberts, Remus' therapist, sputtered. She sighed, calming herself before she continued.

"You're not trying to follow my advice. I tell you to slow down, scale back some of your responsibilities – you come to me session after session telling me about them. I ask you to do meditation exercises in an effort to calm your mind so you can get at least three nights of uninterrupted sleep. You say it hasn't worked, but I think I'm guessing correctly when I say you're not even trying. Remus, you're burning the candle at both ends. If you don't take care of yourself, you will end up dead. Come back to see me when you're serious because right now, you're wasting my time."

Remus looked at Maggie with a shocked look on his face, not believing what he had just heard.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I have rearranged my schedule to fit your schedule because I knew without you even saying a word that you needed help, yet you won't allow me to help you. I can't help you when you're unwilling to meet me halfway."

"I am willing to have you help me, I just don't know how to make it work," Remus roared, his voice at a terrifying volume. Maggie did not flinch, instead, she smirked.

"Finally, some show of emotion from you. What did I tell you at our first session, Remus?"

"That suppressing my emotions wasn't healthy and that's why my emotional outbursts were so violent. But I have to control my emotions because if I don't, I will become a monster."

"My dear boy, not embracing your emotions, the highs and the lows, makes you a monster. Not feeling makes you less than human." Maggie took off her glasses to polish them, an unnecessary task as they were spotless.

"Obviously, you're afraid to express yourself verbally. This is more than likely is because while you were in school you were part of a group dynamic, a group that may have been considered as the popular crowd, but you were not the leader. Matter of fact, you were a follower, glad to have those around you as friends and you did not want to do or say anything to jeopardize your friendship with them. In short, you're a people pleaser."

Remus stared at Maggie, amazed that she saw all of that. He did not speak of his friends, his family really, afraid that he may let something slip about the wizarding world.

"Are you a Seer," he blurted before the filter between his brain and mouth had a chance to work properly. Remus briefly looked horrified before schooling his features once more.

Smiling, Maggie answered in the negative. "I am a mother of three teenagers and two young adults. You're not that much older than my only daughter and second eldest child. I know the social ladder when I see one."

Looking at the clock, Maggie noticed that they were thirty minutes over their scheduled time. But since Remus was always her last scheduled patient since his first session with her, she did not mind.

"Looks like our time is up," Remus stated absently.

"Yes, it is. Before you leave, however, I want to know, do you have a hobby?"

"I do, well, I did. Now I don't because - ,"

"– you don't have the time for it. Since the meditation exercises I have suggested are not to your liking, I want you to do whatever that hobby of yours is when you cannot sleep. Maybe that will help you. Try that, and we will discuss if it has helped or not in the next two weeks."

Maggie Roberts did not ever see Remus again. She often thought of the angst filled young man, especially when she heard the whispered dark rumors in the hallways of the practice where she worked. Opening her office door, her eyes widened when she saw what was on the wall behind her desk. It drew her in as it seemed to glow, filling her office with soft moonlight.


	2. Sweet, Darling Girl

_**One day, people will place their own disclaimers on stories based on my work. Until that happens, just know that the HP universe does not belong to me. **_

**Pot Luck:**Your image prompt will be completely random, basically completely the opposite of the 'art' category. This will be the time for humor/fluff fics (unless you can make it something serious in which case bonus points will be awarded). Your optional prompt will be something random, and maybe even unrelated to the picture.

**Image**: . /i/pix/2013/01/20/article-2265510-170F0AC8000005DC-583_

**Optional**** - **licorice wand

**Sweet, Darling Girl**

**(part of the "Lies" AU)**

* * *

While her sons and husband sleep, Walburga Black makes her way up to the attic to pull down a chest that she had locked and put away so very long ago. Lighting the floating candles she always keeps in the attic, Walburga wipes away the light layer of dust that has accumulated on top. Usually she would yell at Kreacher, their house elf, for not keeping the attic immaculately clean, but on this night, she lets it go. Walburga need the peace, the quiet and the solitude, that this night offers as she tries to make sense of things.

There is change in the air - she can feel it and she is afraid. In her right hand, Walburga holds the letter that driven her from her warm bed this unseasonably cool night. Wiping away the dust, she opens the chest, a chest that she hasn't opened since the completion of her youngest son Seventh Year. There are various things inside – the heirloom dedication gowns her sons wore when they were presented to the family, old jewelry that she would eventually present to her sons chosen brides when the occasion arrives, and (surprisingly to those who knew the "official" family stance on such matters) a muggle wedding gown that she wore at her engagement party. It is under this gown that what she seeks is located.

Although she had not indulged in her passion in recent years, Walburga is a photographer. She has no talent at drawing or painting but photography – no one in the family is her equal. She finds joy in catching candid moments, snapping pictures of family and friends when they are not aware. When Walburga first started her hobby, her favorite subject was her nieces, as she captured them from various points of their lives – birth, first steps, receiving their letters from Hogwarts. Both she and their parents has copies of the pictures she has taken, but the one she now holds; only she had a copy. Walburga thinks about the day when this particular picture was taken.

"Trixie, Trixie, where are you," she had called, looking for her wayward niece. From day one Bellatrix was a bundle of energy, never content to stay in one place. As a result, Walburga had to always search for her eldest niece when it was almost time for her to Floo home.

She received no answer, but heard not the patter of little feet, but the hesitate clatter of heeled shoes in her bedroom. Peaking around the corner so she could not be seen, she was surprised by the sight that greeted her. Tiptoeing away, she went back to grab her camera and returned to take a picture of her niece playing dress up.

"Am I pretty, Aunt Walla," Bellatrix had asked, striking a pose as she noticed her aunt with her camera.

Placing the camera on a dresser, she had picked the little girl up in her arms and spun around in a circle.

"Yes, Trixie, you're very pretty."

"Mother doesn't seem to think so."

"Can I tell you a little secret, Trixie? Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes! Tell me, tell me!"

"The secret is mothers aren't always right. You're pretty and one day you'll grow up to be beautiful."

Placing the photograph back, Walburga wipes away the tears she did not notice flowing down her face. That little girl is long gone, replaced by a woman that she does not recognize. Re-reading the letter in her hand, she shivers.

**Aunt Walburga – **

**I hope this letter finds you in good health. I would write Uncle Orion, but I fear that he cannot be reasoned with, so I write this letter in hopes you will be able to sway him. **

**A new world order is rising. Have you heard about the recent gas leaks and compromised bridge integrity in Muggle London and surrounding areas? Of course you have, as your home is there. Well, I have been promised by my Lord that my family will be protected. I would much rather have you all join me, as it would guarantee a place in the new world we seek to build, but as long as you do not actively oppose the work we do, I can in the very least, promise the survival of our House. **

**Father introduced me to the Lord and Mother approves of his opinions about the current state of the magical world. I am among the Lord's most honored, and rising quickly up his ranks. He is always looking for new recruits and was interested in Sirius, but he is unsuitable, given his stance on certain subjects. I am hoping that young Regulus meets his approval. **

**You do not have to make any decisions now, but sooner is always preferred to later. **

**Bellatrix**

What has happened to the little girl who ran when everyone around her walked, who ate licorice wands till her stomach hurt but still wanted more once the Stomach Soother kicked in? Dead, dead, never to return, Walburga realizes. When did it happen? How did it happen? Was she instrumental in this creature's creation? Just the thought that maybe she has had a part of why her dear Trixie is lost to her, makes Walburga ill. What is more worrisome to Walburga is the last line of the letter. She was born a Black, married a Black, and gave birth to worthy heirs to carry on the Black name. Her House did not create manipulations but Merlin as her witness, it perfected them and she learned how to do so even before she could speak in complete sentences. Trixie (no, **Bellatrix**, she's Trixie no longer) too, it seems, has learned the lessons well. She knows that her aunt will not ignore a threat to her House and more importantly, her sons. Face tight with dried tears, Walburga places the photo back in the trunk, then close and locks it. With a negligent wave of her hand, the candles are extinguished and they floats into the box they are kept in until they are needed again. As Walburga exits the attic, she wonders how she is going to tell Orion about the letter she has received from their niece.

She was once such a sweet, darling girl, after all.


End file.
